La Vida Vagabondic
Contributors to La Vida Vagabondic live the shared theory that there exists a state where all things thought impossible are exactly not. Such states (like life experiences) are shifting, ever-changing, yet their charting adds tiles to a larger mosaic and, as is their hope, enriches a larger world
Paulie considered the transit to Argentina an ideal setting for reflection. The forward movement felt a natural opportunity for looking back.
Blue sky hangs like a tapestry over a garden where Papa and I play. Smiley sun warms my cheeks. Darting breeze brushes the tip of my nose, and I tell Papa that I wish to stay in Wisconsin forever.
It was while languishing in an airport lounge, counting carpet squares to divert the mind, that I concluded my stance on standby ticketing: an economic game of Travel-Chicken with potential purgatorial consequence.
It was a scruffy-haired, tattoo-covered, cuddly, drunk Manx (met in New Zealand, missed in Europe, but found in America) who first spoke aloud of our “vagabondic” lives. And I suppose connecting those geographical dots does merit the label, but in truth this tale commences earlier.
The Forge
Literary quarter for the fallible hand.
Newton’s Third Law, dictating equal and opposite force between two objects, was recently exemplified with true frontier flare.
An unidentified Houston, AK man is reported to have kicked a moose and, as a result, received minor injuries plus a major lesson in how not to treat wildlife.
From each day's accessory, he loved most the ride.
Not the smooth, clean rush of descent, mid you, but the chance acquaintance of each required rise.
Who you met was a mystery.
It surprised him later to realize that all he had required to truly internalize Love, he had already read from the wall of a Norwegian coffee house restroom.
-as Paulie- for white stuff news
from wherever snow falls.
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Lucky number seven marks a warm foosbol welcome to Los Antiguos; a frontier oasis access to wonders we will soon se… https://t.co/wY8CMwGHvv